


Greek Tragedies

by Issay



Series: Character Studies [4]
Category: Black Sails
Genre: Character Study, Episode Related, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-08
Updated: 2015-02-08
Packaged: 2018-03-11 05:15:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3315473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Issay/pseuds/Issay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Low's head on the spike was a love letter, if in Nassau there is such a thing as love. So she goes to him and the first touch of his lips is like a rainfall after a very long drought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Greek Tragedies

She does not really remember the last time she felt fully safe, when she did not have to check behind the curtains of her room and under the bed for assassins. She feels silly doing that with her fingers tightly holding a blade but in Nassau it is better to be silly than dead. Safe... Maybe before Flint came to her for the first time with this crazy notion of his. Or maybe before she started taking care of her father's business. But no, come to think about it, she was seven when her father payed a man to teach Eleanor how to defend herself. For eight birthday he had gotten her a knife, beautiful thing with flowers carved on the blade. She still has it.

She was never safe but now Eleanor also knows that she is not untouchable. Low made an impression. Low made her look vulnerable and open to attacks, she heard whispers on the streets about things he would like to do to her. She feels sickened. But it is Nassau and showing weakness is even worse than actually being weak so she soldiers on and hopes, God, how she hopes. That Flint will come back successful. That Low is just all talk (even though she knows it is pointless, that she will be dead the moment he gets her alone). That Vane...

Eleanor is not sure what she hopes for when it comes to captain Charles Vane, the man who came back from the dead. To her, he is like the sea. Infinitely dangerous and yet she cannot stop searching for his eyes every time she sees him.

No, she is not sure what to hope for but Low's head on the spike surely was not on her list. Even though she manages to keep her face straight and nigh covers the fact that her cheeks flame with blood rushing to the surface of her skin, Eleanor is shaken. It is not a bad feeling, she decides when a few men send her strange looks and others move away from her. It was not a secret that Low hated her deeply and with passion, that he wanted to hurt her. And here he is, displayed for the whole Nassau to see - this is what happens when you anger Charles Vane. And you can anger Vane by wanting to hurt Eleanor Guthrie.

She closes her eyes and counts silently to ten, shaking hands hidden in the cloth of her skirts. He marked her as his. He did it like she is his possession, like there is an ownership to be talked about. He send a message. She is his to protect.

The walk to the fort is a blur, Eleanor knows where she is going but is unsure as to why. It is such a bad idea. It could ruin everything, especially with Flint on the other side of this particular barricade but...

But Low's head on the spike was a love letter, if in Nassau there is such a thing as love, and she cannot stop herself from responding. So she goes to him, flushed and with shining eyes and the first touch of his lips is like a rainfall after a very long drought. She can taste wine in his mouth and salt water on his skin, and she lets the heat of his arms envelop her - and Eleanor feels safer than she did in a very long time. It is good, right to be in his embrace long after he had fallen asleep. As she closes her eyes and breaths in his scent, leather and steel, the world finally seems to be a good place, for once. Even if everything will change in the morning. Even if...

Before sleep claims her, the sound of his deep and slow breath makes her think of wind filling the sails.

When she was a little girl her father told her about Scylla and Charybdis, two great sea monsters from Homer's tale of Odysseus. She knows now how the man himself had to feel, stuck between two evils and surrounded by the infinite, exquisite blue of the sea. With Vane's heat behind her, Eleanor sighs silently, looking at the morning sun, and prays she does not share her fate with mythical sailors. 

The air smells of the sea and death, the usual scents of Nassau.

**Author's Note:**

> [Find me on tumblr!](http://issayscorner.tumblr.com/)


End file.
